


The Pull: a Story of Soulmates, Shared Suffering, and German Pirates

by aunt_zelda



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Community: pacificrimkink, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Fantasizing, Father/Son Incest, Library Sex, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Multi, Open Marriage, Other, Psychic Bond, Rough Sex, Sleeping Together, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:18:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacific Rim, set in a world where people feel a Pull towards their Soulmate. However, things aren't as simple as they initially seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pull: a Story of Soulmates, Shared Suffering, and German Pirates

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at the Pacific Rim Kink Meme: http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2055757#t2055757  
>  _When your soulmate is born, you feel a tug, a Pull, towards them. It comes from your chest, within your ribs, and you can feel it, even when your soulmate is half a world away.  
>  Mako nearly dies the day Yancy does, feeling the pain and blood and ripping muscle and death through her bond to her soulmate.  
> Newt feels his bond tug him from across the ocean, but it feels calmer on days when he can immerse himself in science and numbers. Some days he has to rub a cold aching pain from his leg, a pain he knows isn't his.  
> Herc has never felt the Pull. It's not unusual- it just means that his soulmate hasn't been born yet or, more likely now at his age, that they never made it to birth. It's okay. He's come to terms with the hollowness in his heart, and he finds and marries a beautiful girl who has no Pull either, and they make each other happy. But on the day he rushes from work to the maternity ward, to see his new baby boy, a new Pull floods his veins._
> 
> Please note that the idea of someone with multiple Pulls was a question I asked of the prompter, and they said to go ahead and play with the conventions of a soulmate AU. : D
> 
> I imagine Hannibal's tattoo to look something like this, but a Kaiju skull of course. Not like Newt's more artistic renditions, more realistic. http://ninjajamestattoo.webs.com/photos/undefined/182121_10151810655630112_821447866_n.jpg

It’s a normal day. Mako is thinking of nothing but getting to her next class, moving automatically down the hallway as she has every week, wondering where she should get dinner tonight.

Then a sudden lash of pain ripples through her body. She staggers, gasps, and then collapses. A scream tears from her throat, and she keeps screaming. Her bag spills onto the floor, pens and books rolling out, and she’s dimly aware of voices around her, calling for help. She thrashes on the floor, blinded by the searing pain in her skull, her arm, her back, her leg … 

Someone grabs at her, tries to hold her head steady. “Breathe … breathe …” says the voice of a stressed girl somewhere far away. “Oh god she’s gonna bite her tongue, I think she’s seizing …” 

All Mako can feel is pain. Her face is wet and she’s curled up so tight and her fists are clenched and her hands are bleeding from where her nails are digging into the skin. 

Later she finds out she was sedated by EMTs. It wasn’t a seizure, as initially suspected. Her soulmate, somewhere out in the world, experienced intense psychological and physical trauma. They might even be dead. 

Mako recovers in the hospital, crying for someone she’ll never meet, suffering aches and pains that are not her own.

It takes time, but she recovers, continues with her studies. Her soulmate is likely dead, or comatose from the trauma they experienced. She has to live with that, like she lives with the deaths of her family. Her determination to become a Jaeger pilot and kill every Kaiju she can get within range of her fists increases by the day.

~*~

Newt is super excited for his soulmate. He can’t wait. He has lots of sex all through college to practice, so that once he finds his soulmate they’ll have rockstar sex until the day they die.

One day he wakes up with his leg in such agony he’s convinced he’s being tortured by a serial killer. When he wakes up and his leg is, in fact, fine, he puts ice on it and googles “random pain in leg” and decides to call a doctor in the morning. 

There’s nothing wrong with his leg. Nothing. The doctor performs a bunch of tests and finally asks Newt if he’s found his soulmate yet. Newt shrugs and says “not yet” and the doctor tells him that his soulmate is probably suffering some kind of leg injury. Shared pain is one of the many side effects of one’s soulmate, after all.

Newt ices his leg a lot, and the searing pain fades after a few days. Surgery, he guesses. 

It aches, randomly, and sometimes Newt catches himself limping for no good reason. He also feels a weird draw to German movies and the sudden desire to hop on a plane across the Atlantic. But that’s crazy … right?

After a few years of getting used to the random psychic pain in his leg, Newt falls out of his chair screaming and clutching at his face. His eye is burning, streaming with tears and bloodshot. 

Again, no physical explanation at the doctor’s office. Only another question about his soulmate. Another shrug and a pointed look from the doctor. 

So, Newt isn’t going to have any trouble identifying the person when they come along into his life. He just has to keep a lookout for a freaking German pirate. 

~*~

Herc feels no Pull. Never. Not growing up, not in college, not as he finds the first strands of grey in his hair. 

This isn’t uncommon. His soulmate has probably already died, at birth, perhaps, or in an accident. It was not meant to be. 

Herc resolves himself to this once he reaches a certain age, and begins dating among others like himself. The people who’ve lost their mates forever, or never felt a Pull, but want to feel something, anything, with someone who understands them.

Angela is lovely and doesn’t have the desperate look some of the other people at the Mateless Mingles have. She looks a little tired, which is to be expected after a long week at work. She and Herc talk, and this leads to a date, which leads to dinner and movies and kissing on her couch like teenagers.

Herc doesn’t ask about the framed photograph of the soldier on her mantelpiece. 

Herc is happy; Angela is happy. It’s only when Herc arrives at the maternity ward, still covered in grime from the latest test run in the Jaeger, that it all goes wrong. 

He feels it. Herc feels the Pull, and it’s just as overwhelming as all those stupid movies make it sound, all those books he read as a teenager to try and understand what he was _supposed_ to be feeling, any day now.

His kid. 

It’s wrong. So wrong. He blocks the thought out, hides it, pretends that everything is fine. And for years, it seems like he can do that. He’s busy with the Jaegers, after all, away more and more as the years go on. Angela understands, knows that the work they do is keeping everyone safe. Chuck, as he grows up, grows a little resentful.

Herc is so careful, so cautious. Because it’s wrong, it’s sick, and he’s never heard of this happening, but of course he wouldn’t, who’d talk about feeling a Pull towards their own _child_? Herc nearly has a heart attack when Chuck asks him, with all the blushing awkwardness of a thirteen year old, about masturbation.

Herc buries it so far down that even when they Drift, when Chuck is seventeen and bursting with excitement at piloting a Jaeger beside his father, Chuck doesn’t see the Pull. After a few Drifts, he inevitably does. And Herc jolts out of the connection and storms off, won’t see Chuck for days. 

Bad enough that he feels this. Worse that, after the latest Drift, Herc knows that it’s not just in his head, it’s in Chuck’s too. Chuck feels the Pull just like he has. He’s grown up feeling it. This is real. They’re soulmates. 

Herc barely looks at Chuck for almost a year.

Angela dies in a Kaiju attack. 

Chuck, nineteen and determined, corners Herc one night and Herc is so tired of fighting this. He lets the Pull overtake him, lets Chuck push him into their room and lock the door. 

“It’s not your fault,” Chuck says, as Herc tries to turn away. “It’s not your fault. Let’s just … just …”

And they do. And it feels so good. So … right. 

Herc can’t bring himself to feel ashamed afterwards. He was careful. He never pushed, never led, never influenced. The only way Chuck found out was by going into his head, accessing his memories, had to practically tear it out of his mind. 

They don’t talk about it. They don’t have to, really, everything they need to say can be said in the Drift. 

~*~

Hermann finds himself beset by strange urges with increasing regularity throughout his early adulthood. He begins to feel a Pull, but distantly. His soulmate is out there, he knows, and getting regular tattoos from the pain Hermann regularly experiences on his own skin. Inevitably, their paths shall cross, but it’s inconvenient for Hermann now. When his work is so pressing. When the Kaiju are increasing the frequency of their attacks. 

And Vanessa is … right there. Teaching a class with a voice as clear as a bell, and a grasp of biochemistry Hermann envies. Walking across the quad, laughing with a gaggle of colleagues and a few honored students. Leaning over her crowded desk to fetch a book for Hermann, her skirt drawn so tight by the stretch that Hermann can see she’s not wearing any underwear. 

Not that he was looking, of course! That would be … unprofessional, not to mention rude. 

Vanessa feels no Pull. She tells him this, bluntly, over coffee one afternoon. She also informs him that she has no intention of being his “bit on the side” while he waits for his soulmate. Hermann splutters and protests that he intends no such thing, and Vanessa laughs and pats him on the back. 

They end up shagging in the library by the week’s end. Hermann clings to a bookshelf and stifles a moan with his hand while Vanessa trails kisses down his chest. He has no idea how things progressed this quickly, or why Vanessa has chosen him out of all the other academics and attentive students around her. He’s hardly a catch, with a Pull and a bad leg and a dislike of most social gatherings. He tells Vanessa this, and she laughs it off, kisses him, tells him “You sell yourself short, Professor Gottlieb.” 

The third time they have sex, rolling into Vanessa’s exquisitely soft bed, Hermann feels the jab of invisible needles on his skin. He shudders, and Vanessa pulls back.

“Did I hurt you?” she asks, horrified. 

“No, I …” Hermann blushes. It seems so … crass, to discuss this with her, someone who’s never felt a Pull, especially now of all times. “My soulmate. They’re getting another tattoo. I can feel it, here,” Hermann traces a hand over his upper arm.

“Really?” Vanessa stares at him in fascination and … yes, a little longing there, just at the corners of her eyes. Hermann pretends not to see it. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermann attempts.

“Don’t be. This is … well, it’s rather like a threesome, isn’t it? But there’s only two of us physically in this space.” Vanessa licks Hermann’s shoulder, then scraps her teeth along his skin. 

Hermann gasps and shudders for an entirely different reason now. 

After a time, Hermann becomes used to this, stops trying to convince himself to end things with Vanessa. So what if they feel no Pull towards each other? They love each other’s minds, enjoy each other’s bodies sexually, and value each other’s companionship. And Vanessa is not, as Hermann overhears some students sniggering, a “discount mate” to “test drive” until the real soulmate arrives. 

After Hermann’s accident; the horrible night in the emergency room when Vanessa is denied entrance due to not being family, they talk about more serious arrangements. Marriage isn’t something either of them have considered before, but now … it makes far too much sense. Vanessa is concerned over what Hermann’s soulmate will feel, when they finally meet.

“I don’t mind, whoever they are, you’re going to love them someday. I don’t mind sharing you. But there’s an incredibly high likelihood of them objecting to my relationship with you, especially if we do this.”

Hermann considers this. Vanessa is right, of course (as she always is.) His soulmate is out there. There’s no telling how they’ll react to a wedding ring on Hermann’s finger, but the odds are that it won’t be with delight. 

“If they’re truly my soulmate, and we find each other after all these Kaiju attacks, they’ll understand.” Hermann says at last. “They have to accept you. You’re as much a part of my life as they are. Will be.” Hermann shakes his head at the convoluted language, and Vanessa pulls him into a kiss. 

“Then yes. My answer is yes, Hermann.”

~*~

Hannibal isn’t sure why he gets the tattoo at first. He’s seized with a sudden desire, has the money and the skin, and goes for it. 

The kaiju skull on his chest grins at him as he stands in the mirror, examining the work. (It’s good at least; for the money he paid it had _better_ be good.) The placement concerns him: over his heart. That was important, for some reason, though he can’t quite articulate why. It just felt … right. And it feels right, as his skin stings in the aftermath of the inking. 

“Goddamn soulmate,” Hannibal growls, coming to the obvious conclusion. Kaiju groupie, according to the evidence on his chest. 

Hannibal smirks, gold teeth glinting. A Kaiju groupie is going to think they’ve died and gone to heaven when they meet Hannibal Chau. Not only will they meet their soulmate, they’ll suddenly have access to all the Kaiju remains they could possibly dream of!

Hannibal Chau is going to get so very, very laid.

~*~

Newt is overjoyed. 

And, ok, a little confused. He was expecting a German pirate, after all, not this stuffy professor-looking type with a cane and a … wedding ring?!

“You’re married?” Newt blurts out, and promptly curses himself. _Oh, brilliant, wonderful first words to your soulmate, Newt, truly you are the romantic hero of the age._

“Ah … yes.” Hermann smiles, _smiles_ , in fond recollection. He’s just met his soulmate, re: hot tattooed rockstar scientist standing right in front of him, and he’s thinking about _someone else._ “Her name is Vanessa. I can’t wait for her to meet you.”

Newt just … stares. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, at all. No. First off, Newt’s supposed to meet German Pirate Dude (or lady, Newt doesn’t really care one way or the other.) Then they’re supposed to bang non-stop for a week. Then they’re going to scale things back enough to keep working their jobs and having lives, but screwing each other silly at every opportunity. 

Nowhere in that plan does German Pirate Dude’s wife feature. Because she should not exist. 

Granted, when Newt finds out that Hermann has never had any eye trouble, nor does he enjoy Szechuan food, Newt has to admit that maybe he’s not what Hermann planned either. People with multi-Pulls are rare, but not unheard of. And Newt, it turns out, has been feeling two different Pulls all along. 

What a mess. Newt and Hermann are soulmates. Hermann has a wife who feels no Pull. Newt has a completely different Pull than the one he feels towards Hermann, to someone with eye trouble and a taste for spice. 

Well, things could be worse, Newt decides at last. Things could be boring. At least he’s well on his way to having that rockstar sex with at least one person, and very possibly two.

~*~

Mako doesn’t speak when she meets Raleigh Beckett. 

Neither does Raleigh. 

They simply walk towards each other, in the rain, and stand face to face, underneath Mako’s umbrella. Calmly, Mako hands her clipboard to Stacker, and then embraces Raleigh. 

It’s not a quick movement, or in any way desperate. It’s almost like the folding of a piece of paper, precise and gradual, revealing the shape that was there all along. 

Raleigh opens his arms and pulls her close, feeling her heartbeat thudding in time with his. 

They stand there for an eternity, in the rain, until they remember the rest of the world. They enter the elevator with Stacker, who eyes Raleigh with a father’s caution and care. They don’t let go of each other, even if they pull back to merely holding hands for some time. 

At night, they sleep in the same bed, fully clothed and terrified of speech, huddling together as if for warmth, though the Shatterdome is perfectly heated. 

The next day, Raleigh tries to talk about Yancy. 

Mako only says, “I know. I felt it, that day.” 

That’s all she needs to say; that’s all Raleigh needs to hear. 

~*~

Hannibal looks the kid up and down. The knife is still brushing the inside of his nose, but Hannibal leaves it there. Soulmate or not, he’s never been one to back down from a threat.

He’d been expecting someone … well, to be honest, someone with more in the chest department and less in the trousers, but Hannibal’s a flexible guy. He can work with this. So what if his visions of girls with daddy issues and “I Heart Kaiju” t-shirts are slipping away? He’s got a handful of hot tattooed geek; that’s just as good. 

_Oooh, and he’s_ squirmy _too, won’t that be fun …_

Hannibal withdraws the knife with a flourish and watches as Newt shifts from foot to foot, vibrating with energy. It’s practically a mating dance and Hannibal wishes he could drop everything and fuck this fidgety little bastard against the nearest flat surface, but he can’t. There’s business to attend to. The screwing can come later. 

It does, much, much, _much_ later, after Hannibal is eaten by a baby kaiju and loses his shoe and, apparently, the world is saved. Fan-fucking-tastic, but all Hannibal Chau cares about is 1) finding his soulmate 2) finding his shoe and 3) doing inappropriate things to his soulmate with his shoe, if possible. 

They never get that far. Hannibal storms into the Shatterdome, letting the Pull lead him where he needs to go. He finds Newt in a party, grabs him, and drags him out into a hallway. 

“Bedroom. Now.” Hannibal growls. He pauses, suddenly realizing he’s covered in Kaiju. “Wait, no. Shower, then bed. Lead the way, kid.”

Newt does, stuttering “You … you were dead …” all the way. Hannibal washes the Kaiju muck from himself and laments his ruined suit. Whatever, he’s got a dozen others at his safehouses. And he made sure, after cutting himself out of the Kaiju, to alert his people to his continued existence. There’s no power vacuum destroying his empire. No, they’re busy salvaging the increasingly valuable last Kaiju corpses. So Hannibal can concentrate on more personal matters. 

Such as his soulmate’s … other soulmate. 

Hannibal watches as Newt flails his arms and tries to explain, about his other soulmate, his soulmate’s wife, and all these entanglements that Hannibal really doesn’t give one good goddamn about. 

“Can you, or can you not, have sex with me right now?” Hannibal growls, interrupting Newt mid-sentence.

Newt gulps, blinks, and grins hopefully. “You don’t care about all that?”

“You bet your goddamn ass I don’t,” Hannibal lunges, pinning Newt down onto the bed in one swift motion. “And what a fine ass it is,” Hannibal smirks as Newt squirms enthusiastically underneath him. “You been fucked before, kid?”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Newt draws the sound out lasciviously. “I’ve been practicing.”

Hannibal imagines that, sees Newt taking home progressively bigger guys, just to get ready for this, for _him_. He has to take a moment to steady himself, the visions of Newt’s “practicing” turning him on far more than he’d thought possible. 

“Good boy,” Hannibal tugs Newt’s pants off one-handed. “Let’s hope all that hard work paid off. I’m not exactly gentle.”

“I hoped you wouldn’t be,” Newt gasps, writhing under Hannibal’s fingers. “Hermann’s too gentle. Even when he’s angry at me, even when he totally wants to just fuck me until I scream, he …” Newt trails off into a series of low moans.

“Stop talking about him,” Hannibal drawls. He doesn’t mind, not really. People with multi-Pulls happen, after all, it’s nothing to get upset about. But he’d rather Newt was concentrating on just him right now. Maybe later, he can meet this Hermann, and they can take Newt together, shove a cock down his throat to shut him up for a while. He bets Hermann would like that, getting Newt to be quiet for five fucking minutes. 

Newt twists around, grinning. “Make me.”

It’s a challenge Hannibal is glad to accept.


End file.
